


Barely There

by regaining



Category: Gaya Sa Pelikula (Web Series), Gaya sa Pelikula (Web Series) RPF, GsP
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Playlist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29484684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regaining/pseuds/regaining
Summary: Vlad’s very busy. Karl’s too sleepy to care.
Relationships: Karl Frederick Almasen/Jose Vladimir Austria
Comments: 12
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I made a sort-of companion playlist for this story. Anyway, it's a distillation of classic songs that both characters would have bonded over; the kind that would make them (or you) go, "Hey I remember this song! Turn it up!" [Barely There: A Companion Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/79IIIFQBin635aFxsBCA3W?si=5ammQDeuSx2M_G5S2ia0Ug)

### I. Whale, Whale, Whale

He might as well be reading hieroglyphics at this point. Nearing ten hours at this coffee shop, Vlad seems unable to make anything out of the case folders he brought with him. All he knows now is that by some sort of magic or miracle, he is supposed to come out of this ordeal with a perfectly written, well-researched, not-at-all rushed Motion for Reconsideration ready for filing with the Supreme Court early tomorrow morning. The thing is, _Today *is* tomorrow morning, dummy_ , he sighs, looking at his watch. 2:56 a.m. 

Vlad knew lawyering wouldn’t be easy. Hell, nothing about the process of becoming a lawyer was easy—so why should actually being one be different? He fully expected the sleeplessness, the late nights (or early mornings) going home, the forests of paper his eyes have to read and his hands have to type on. _None of this is easy_ , his usual mantra goes, _but none of this is impossible_. He’d already done so much, and sacrificed so much, and gave up a lot of people to get here. _This is the dream_ , he thinks, _we can rest and live later_.

Which is why he’s here now, rummaging through his bag for the nearly-empty bottle of eye drops, opening his eyes really wide, and already making his mind up to finish drafting this motion before sunrise. _You can do this, Vlad_.

“Finally, he takes a break.” 

Vlad looks around the coffee shop for the source of the voice, blinking away some stray drops of Visine. He’s surprised someone else is here. On weekdays, his favorite coffee place can be relied on to provide a sanctuary-like atmosphere, which is why he preferred it. Except for the rare group of college-age kids shaking off the last bits of alcohol buzz on Fridays, the place is usually deserted in the wee hours of the morning. Hearing this voice, now, felt like an intrusion, and he frowned at that.

“Excuse me?” He finally finds the person who belonged to the voice: a guy about his age, bright smiling eyes with the longest lashes he’s seen on anyone. He’s wearing navy blue scrubs, a stethoscope slung on his neck, his lips curled into an amused smile, like he’s looking at something unbearably cute, like a basket of kittens or something.

“You’ve been eyeing those folders like they owe you money or something,” the guy continues with a barely audible chuckle, “why are you mad at them?” He looks too damn cheerful so late in the night.

“I’m not!” Vlad’s retort is fast and curt, a bit too defensive. Softer, now, “I was just…thinking.” _Who is this guy anyway?_

“Thinking about what?” That smile is too bright. “Listen, uh, I don’t know what you’re doing, but—”

“I’m Karl. Hi!” An outstretched hand. Almost on autopilot, Vlad takes it, making a mental note of the hand’s warmth, which is somehow perfect with its grip. “I’m Vlad, uh—” he starts, then just stops. And stares. Before the silence could stretch into further awkwardness, his brain fortunately decides to work again. “It’s just work. I have a deadline.” Okay, that seemed like a normal response.

“Wait here.” Karl stands up suddenly and walks toward the counter. _What the hell?_ Every word out of this strange man’s lips seems so random and unexpected. Unnerving, yes, but Vlad had to admit he’s a bit curious. Unfortunately, there is no time for curiosity. The deadline demands 100% of his brain. Straightening his back, stretching his neck sideways, Vlad leafs through Volume 4 of his folders, cracks his knuckles, and prepares to type—

“Here!” Karl’s back, still smiling, and huffing a little bit, like he ran from the counter to Vlad’s table. “Venti Iced Americano, no cream and no sugar. Sorry, I didn’t know how you take your coffee, so I assumed you take it the way I do.” He presents the coffee with a flourish of his hand and gently lays it on Vlad’s table.

Vlad looks at the coffee and back at Karl, unsure of what to do. Karl’s smile falters a little, and when his lips settle into a sheepish grin, Vlad musters all his will power not to reach out and pinch the boy’s cheek.

“Um, thank you, I guess?” Karl’s right; he took his coffee black. It’s simpler that way, and it takes less time to make in the morning. Before he could say anything else, Karl speaks again.

“It’s a bribe, actually.” _Huh?_ “I have a few hours before my surgery. I’m doing it, I’m not the one who’s getting it, actually. And I’m a firm believer in not being sleepy during my surgeries, especially if they involve cute toddlers and our on-call room is a literal disaster area. I was hoping to sleep here, but I don’t want to be robbed blind while I’m sleeping, before an important surgery, the one I have to be awake for, with the cute toddler, and, and, you look like you’re an upstanding citizen, a model member of the community, you even look like a lawyer. You are one, right? So I thought, I mean, maybe, if you’re okay with it, I could, uh, well, we could join tables and maybe I could sleep here, near you?”

The whole spiel comes out in one long yet hurried breath, as though Karl wants to get it all out before embarrassment swallows him whole.

Vlad’s not sure what this guy’s—Karl’s—deal is, but okay, after deciding that Karl doesn’t look like a completely deranged serial killer or something, Vlad relents. “Uh, sure?” It doesn’t hurt that Karl’s cute, too, in that irrepressibly-cheerful-bright-as-the-sun-always-smiling kind of way, but yeah, cute. How many times has he used those adjectives in the past 20 minutes?

Looking a bit closely though, he could see the tiredness in the surgeon’s eyes. And a _pediatric_ surgeon? Vlad tries to imagine what kind of stress that entails and suppresses a shudder. What kind of life must that be like? Probably like his own life. His life. Oh man. Yup, sounds stressful. No wonder the guy’s literally sleeping around. Vlad struggles to hold a laugh at his wordplay.

His eyes. Karl’s eyes. They are looking at him expectantly, like a pair of exhausted birds who found a place to land after hours on the wing. Vlad wants to berate his mind for coming up with these metaphors when he notices that Karl’s been speaking for a few minutes now.

“—so how about it, Vlad?”

Vlad clears his throat to hide his embarrassment. He’s been staring, he knows, his visibly reddening earlobes are giving him away. He didn’t catch the beginning of Karl’s question but he answers anyway. “Y-yeah, no problem, Karl.” Lightning quick, before Vlad could change his mind, the surgeon gets his bag and white coat from his table and settles on a chair beside Vlad.

He then searches through his bag, and produces a small black-and-white pillow shaped like some animal. A whale? “This here’s Orca,” he says fondly. He then turns to Vlad, speaking in a whisper, conspiratorially, “Say hi to Orca, Vlad. He’ll feel awkward if you don’t.” _HUH?_

“Hi?”

Karl’s smile feels like it won’t stop. “Alright! Orca and I will catch some z’s while you work. You go do your thing Vlad, don’t mind us.” _Ooookay_.

The next two hours pass by quickly for Vlad, mostly because for some reason, he is actually able to find the words and the arguments for this thing he needs to file. When he gets into a flow like this, Vlad is happiest. The world outside his mind melts and he is able to absorb what he needs to absorb from what he is focusing on. It’s as if the legal concepts he needs travel straight from his brain to paper (well, computer). Lately, he’s been having trouble finding this flow, but tonight, tonight is his lucky night.

Once in a while, his flow would get interrupted when he can’t find the perfect words for an argument. Only then, his eyes would lift from his laptop and rest on the sleeping Karl, who’s sleeping with this head sideways on the pillow—Orca, heh—facing him, his slow languid breaths causing Vlad’s papers to flutter a little. Then the words find Vlad’s mind and he gets back to the flow, his fingers racing madly to catch up with his thoughts.

He settles into this pattern for those two hours, write, read, check on Karl (he is checking on him, he tells himself, he’s just making sure Karl’s still breathing, he’s NOT staring, okay?), until he reaches the last footnote of the last page of his motion. 35 pages. _Not bad, Vladimir._ He’s about to close all the tabs in his browser when the coffee shop’s door opens and a similarly-dressed woman walks in and heads straight to his table.

“What did you do to Dr. Almasen?” the woman asks. She sounds annoyed but her eyes are smiling. “Oh, he was just—” Vlad starts to explain, but she just laughs. “I’m kidding. I’m here to pick him up for his surgery.”

She clears her throat then leans in close to Karl’s ear. “DOCTOR ALMASEN TO THE OPERATING ROOM. DOCTOR ALMASEN TO. THE. OPERATING. ROOM.”

Karl wakes with start, his eyes darting to and fro, then landing on Vlad. He smiles groggily at Vlad, “Oh hey, there you are. How long was I out?” Vlad’s about to answer when the woman interrupts him, rolling her eyes.

“I hate to break up this googly-eyes-session you guys are having, but Karl, your surgery’s in 20 minutes. Why weren’t you at the on-call room?”

“Oh shoot! Thanks, Anna.” He smiles gratefully at the woman, earning a frown from her. “You didn’t quite have to scream into my ear, but thanks.” “Anna” rolls her eyes yet again, but smiles at Vlad. “Thank you for taking care of our star pediatric resident here, uh—?

“I’m Vlad.” Vlad feels oddly proud when he hears that Karl’s a “star pediatric resident” but he doesn’t know why.

“He’s not usually a sleepyhead but for some reason, Karl here decided on back-to-back 48-hour shifts. why he did that, I don’t know. I swear, the boy’s a certified—”

“Anyway! Vlad, fantastic meeting you. Haven’t napped like that in years. We must do that again.” Karl stands up, quickly gathers his things and steers Anna in the direction of the door, preventing her from saying anything else.

Vlad chuckles, finding the interaction between the two amusing but also feeling a bit melancholy now that this random thing is nearing its end. He looks at the retreating pair then starts to gather his belongings.

“Oh, and Vlad?” Karl shouts from the door. “Good luck with your, uh, paper. Did you finish it?”

Surprised, Vlad replies. “Yeah, I did.”

“Good. I’m proud of ya.” _Was that a wink?_ And then they’re out the door, off to save a cute toddler’s life.

Vlad checks his watch. 4:54 am. Good. Just enough time to shower, eat, then go back to the office at 6. Urgh.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, rendering Karl speechless was fast becoming one of Vlad’s favorite activities, next to making him smile.

### II. Must Love Dogs

In what seemed like decades, Vlad finally has a weekend off; the first one since passing the bar exams, maybe. His boss—a junior partner at the firm—finally took pity on him late Friday night as they were working on an appeal case, and said, “Austria, please, please do not work this weekend. If you show up on Monday with those eye bags intact, I will seriously fire you.”

He didn’t even set the alarm Friday night. No, scratch that. He had to turn off all existing alarms on his phone, ticking off each of the _fifteen_ alarms that stretch from 4:15 to 8:35 a.m. It was, of course, pointless because even without the annoying chimes, Vlad woke up promptly at 4:09 a.m., the twinkling lights from nearby buildings greeting him from the window. _Might as well get up._

It took a while, but Vlad managed to reorient himself to the idea of a weekend. After waking up, he made himself a pot of coffee. He even hauled out a barely used yoga mat he got from a Christmas party raffle at the firm a year ago and half-assed a yoga class on YouTube. Twisting his body into odd shapes wasn’t exactly his forte even as a child, so trying to do so now, after years of slouching on an office chair, was excruciating. Half an hour into it, and in the middle of downward-facing dog, he decided that’s too much change for a day.

So far, though, spontaneity was working. He was pleasantly surprised to find out that the park in front of his condo hosts a weekend farmers’ market, so he decided to duck in and see if he could grab some breakfast. To ride the spontaneous wave he was on, he bought a bowl of _guinatan*_ and a falafel wrap. A second cup of coffee to round out the meal.

Maybe he should check out something cultural today, something enriching, something that you can’t find in a law book. He was debating whether to go to the Museum of Natural History that recently reopened, or to a second-hand bookstore nearby when he heard three distinct loud noises: a thud—like a bag of cement thrown on the ground, a frustrated **“Ow!”** , and the incessant barking of what sounded like 50 overeager puppies.

Craning his neck to the commotion, Vlad sees someone slumped over on the pavement attempting to get up with not much success, what with his feet tangled in dog leashes. The whole thing looked like a Buster Keaton silent film and Vlad tried valiantly not to laugh. He decided he better help the poor guy.

The guy was now seated on the concrete, seemingly resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to get up without outside intervention. He was cooing to one of his puppies when Vlad approached to extend a hand. _Oh._

 _It’s Sleepy Surgeon._ For some reason unknown to him, Vlad felt slightly nervous seeing Karl again, like he’d been waiting for it. He’s a bit ashamed to recall it now, but in the days following their “sleepover,” he watched out for him at the coffee shop, his head almost automatically looking up each time the door opened.

Taking his hand, Karl hoisted himself up and nearly stumbled again. “Sorry, the dogs are a little too excited to be outside today. Hiya, Vlad!”

-

“Are you also a vet?”

Karl chuckled at Vlad’s question. They were in the middle of giving vitamins to the puppies. “Here, can you get Peanut over there? It’s her turn.” Vlad spotted the caramel-colored pup and handed her over.

“I volunteer here whenever I can. They have a part-time vet who comes twice a month so I try to pitch in with the light stuff.”

 _‘Here’_ is an animal sanctuary that was actually just a 10-minute walk from Vlad’s place. Karl was on his walk with five of the most gregarious dogs in the shelter when Vlad rescued him. When Karl asked, “Wanna come with?” and flashed that bare-your-teeth-like-it’s-your-5th-birthday smile, Vlad couldn’t say no. He thought Karl might not get a lot of “no’s” in his life, with that smile as part of his arsenal.

“As a kid, I was so allergic to dogs that my Mom didn’t dare adopt one. I used to go to my classmates’ houses so I can hang out with their dogs…and come home wheezing from their hair,” Karl continued, “but I grew out of it. The allergy, I mean. So now I come here. Spending a whole day cuddling dogs? Not a bad deal, right?”

Vlad nodded, feeling a pang of longing for his own labrador retriever, Ariana, who’s at his parents’ place in the province. Karl would love her. Attentive, gentle, and with the waggiest tail in the world, she’ll go crazy for Karl, too, Vlad thinks. “Yeah, not a bad deal,” Vlad replied. Not at all. His mind was already making play-dates with his dog and Karl and he’s having a little trouble scolding himself for such an absurd thought.

“And how about you? What do you do on your days off, when you’re not rescuing the clumsy and out-dogged from the city’s mean pavements?”

 _Heh. That was funny._ Vlad sighed, thinking deeply. What does he do on weekends? “I…” What? Sleep? Work? He was so tempted to make up something interesting, some hobby that lets Karl know he’s not a total hermit who lives in the office, but whaaat? Skateboarding? Off-roading? Discovering the mysteries of Tibetan Buddhism?

“I don’t usually get days off. Mostly I just sleep. Or I go to the office.” He settled for the truth. He didn’t understand why he wanted Karl to think he’s interesting anyway. If he’s being honest, this day was already the most adventurous one he’s had in a while. He had a sneaking suspicion that for Karl, tripping over five dog leashes and sleeping on strangers’ tables is just ‘one of those days.’ A sliver of envy snuck its way inside Vlad’s heart, but he tamped it down. For today he just wanted to _enjoy_.

“Ah. You’re such a Kallie.” _A Kallie?_ One of the things Vlad discovered about Karl is his tendency to blurt out random sentences that make sense only after some kind of convoluted explanation. Vlad decided to go with it. “A Kallie, huh? Who is that, your girlfriend or something?”

Karl’s laugh was like a cross between a full-throated guffaw and a chortle. “Something like that. Come with me,” he says, giggling and dragging Vlad to a back door while wiping his eyes. _What!?_

Out back, there’s a plot of land with some grass and a small barn-like enclosure. “Wow. A barn? Am I still Makati?” Vlad asked aloud.

“You sure are, Mister. They don’t just take in dogs and cats here. You ever hear of cows or pigs who escape from trucks or slaughterhouses? This sanctuary takes some of them in.” Karl then led Vlad to one of the enclosures, still holding him by the wrist. When he lets go to unlock the door, Vlad felt the absence, and held his wrist with his other hand to retain some of the warmth.

Inside are three smaller enclosures with bales of hay. The first two ‘rooms’ have two large pigs who were rooting about in the pen. “Those are Bonny and Bennie. They’re sows.”

“Hey momma Kallie. Are you sleeping again?” Karl called out playfully. When they got to the farthest enclosure, he gestured to its occupant. “Meet Kallie. The sleepiest cow known to man.”

Vlad laid his eyes on a large cow who was motionless on the floor, except for her tail, which moved up and down to swat the occasional fly. Karl inched closer to Kallie, and knelt down to stroke her short fur. Vlad followed, cautiously. “When Kallie came here, she had just given birth to her calf. They don’t know what happened to it, they just knew she had given birth based on her condition, but Kallie escaped when the truck she was in stopped at the side of SLEX for a flat tire. She ran and ran and fortunately the people who found her brought her here.” Vlad nervously put out a hand to pat the boulder of a cow. Kallie opened her eyes a bit, glanced at Vlad, and promptly went back to sleep.

Vlad whispered. “And I’m like her because?”

Karl scrunched his nose at Vlad to keep from laughing out loud. “You know when I saw you at that coffee shop, I thought, what or who in the world is chasing that guy? You seem to be running without using your legs. Your mind seemed to be running so fast. No wonder you sleep in whenever you get the chance. Like Kallie here.”

“If I remember correctly, between the two of us, you’re the sleepy one,” Vlad deadpanned.

“Fine, we’re Kallies then. Mooooo. Wanna help me tidy things in here?”

“Sure,” Vlad replied, smiling at Karl.

-

It was around 4pm when they finished at the sanctuary, though Vlad could have sworn it was just around lunchtime. As they said their goodbyes to Nina, the woman who Karl said is on duty on Saturdays, Vlad feels oddly…accomplished? Yeah, that’s the word. He turns to Karl. “Do you want to grab _merienda*_ with me? As a thank-you, for this day. I…uh, this was fun.”

Vlad decided to take Karl to an afternoon outdoor food park just a ten-minute drive from the city. On the car ride, Karl was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. He sat beside Vlad and hummed to Vlad’s car music. Vlad searched his mind for something to talk about and was fully ready to panic a little. _Think, Vlad!_

At a stoplight, the chorus from a _Carpenters_ song came on. It’s Yesterday Once More. As if on cue, the two looked at each other and sang:

_Every sha la la la_

_Every whoa oh oh_

_Still shines_

_Every shi-nga-ling-nga-ling that you start to sing so fiiiiine_

Then dissolved into full-blown giggles. “Wow,” Karl said in between laughs. “So you grew up on a steady childhood diet of 96.3 Easy Rock, too, huh?” Vlad just nodded. Something about the way they looked at each other while they sang, however funny, sat inside Vlad’s chest and unfurled there, delicious and slightly painful.

At the food park, they settled into a bench. As Karl made a move to join Vlad in choosing what to eat, Vlad stopped him. “My treat. I have a feeling you’ll like what I’ll get for us.” Karl regarded him curiously, but sat back down anyway.

Vlad returned, toting two plates of burgers with fries. “They have these vegetarian burgers here. And the cheese is dairy-free!” He beamed at Karl. When the guy looked at him questioningly, he continued. “Oh come on, Karl. No one who has Kallie for a friend would eat an animal.” He then took a bite of his burger and looked at the stunned guy.

“I…” For some reason, rendering Karl speechless was fast becoming one of Vlad’s favorite activities, next to making him smile. “Thank you, Vlad.”

“Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *guinatan- A sticky snack made with coconut milk, sweet potato and rice flour  
> *merienda- a snack taken in the afternoon
> 
> Life gets in the way of updating, but I hope to finish this in a few weeks/months. (I initially planned this to be a series of five meet-cutes with no discernible plot. Heh. Also, to be honest, I don't know how this will end. Which is to say, the story's not mapped out yet.)
> 
> PS Have you guys read the Kilometer Zero stories? So good! I wish I joined but just reading them is more than enough for me. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl thinks. And thinks.

### III. Duck Walk

 _Stupid, Stupid, Stupid_.

Vlad’s at his desk at work the following Monday, blinking at his computer. Thankfully, he has no hearings today, because his brain just wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, it only wants to wonder why, in the nearly whole day he spent with Karl last Saturday, at no point did he pluck the courage to ask for the guy’s number.

And who the hell doesn’t have any social media accounts? Apparently Karl. _Even I have a Twitter account._ Sure, it’s on private, last updated in 2012 and has only 7 followers—three of which appear to be completely dead, but it’s there, easily searchable in case someone looks him up. Karl, however. Nada.

Well, not nada, exactly. “Karl Almasen” yielded only the results of the physician licensure exam from a couple of years back. The way Vlad pored over that page; he could probably tell you who else passed aside from Dr. Almasen. The same Dr. Almasen who two days ago literally stumbled in front of him and dragged him into a whole day of…a whole day of something that’s the equivalent of a cold shower in the middle of a hot summer day.

 _Stop._ He’s not going to obsess about this. So what if he can’t find Karl? Wait. Maybe it’s “Almacen”? _Stop it, Austria._ He closes the tab and opens the word file for a criminal complaint he needs to file with the prosecutor next week.

_How do you even hunt down cute pediatric surgeons-slash-animal-shelter-volunteers to ask them out on a date anyway?_

\-----

Karl takes a deep breath and runs the whole thing again through his mind. This is a partial degloving of the left hand in a seven-year-old patient. Much of the structures have been preserved. The surgical intervention will be revascularization through venous and arterial anastomosis.

Or, as he explained to his patient, JC, “We will fix your boo-boo like how they fixed Iron-Man!” Karl smiles at the memory, how the kid regarded him suspiciously as he explained the surgery. Iron-Man was injured in the films, right? Karl wasn’t sure, but he did see JC clinging to an Iron-Man action figure and thought he could wing it.

He finishes washing his hands and enters the sterile area. Usually, he’d be assisting in this kind of procedure, but he’s had two solo procedures before, so his attending surgeon thought nothing of assigning him another one. Inwardly, Karl did a small pump of his fist when his superior looked at the 9 residents on the surgery rotation and said, “Almasen, you do it. I want progress updates immediately before and after.”

“Dr. Almasen?” The OR nurse looks expectantly. He heads to where JC could see him. “Hi, buddy! It’s me, Doctor Karl.” He waves his eyebrows up and down. “Isn’t this mask cool?”

“It’s cold here, Doctor Karl.”

“Don’t worry, bud. We won’t be here for long, right, Doc Jim?” Karl says, looking up at the anesthesiologist. “We just want you to count slowly from ten to one and then we will start…”

As soon as ‘Doc Jim’ gives a nod to Karl, he asks one of the nurses to turn on the speakers.

He would love to be able to say that his “surgery music” includes something classical, like Bach, or Beethoven, or Mozart. Or something cool like Led Zeppelin. Instead, his playlist is unabashedly pop and _senti_ , the kind where you know the lyrics by heart because they are heartfelt.

And when the opening piano of Carole King’s “So Far Away” comes on, he picks up the scalpel, takes a gulp of air, and begins.

Karl can’t tell you what goes through his head when he’s in the operating room. All he knows is that nowadays, it’s one of the few places where he can get peace. You know the kind. The peace that comes from certainty, from being sure of yourself and what’s going on around you. You know what happened before and what will happen next. At least, you’re supposed to know. In here, there is surrender, too. After you have done anything and everything you could, you surrender the result to something higher than you. Whether that’s God or some other being, Karl doesn’t know yet. But it’s the kind of peace that settles so sweetly in Karl, and he’s sought it ever since.

As he was moving to the next phase of the procedure, the same Carpenters song from Saturday comes on, earning a small smile from him. _Vlad_. In a word association game, he would blurt out “befuddled” to describe Vlad. Karl wouldn’t consider himself playful at all, except when interacting with his young patients, but something in Vlad seems to set off his teasing side. The shy lawyer seemed to blush at the drop of a hat and, okay, Karl can admit to himself that seeing Vlad redden from neck to ear is almost an event unto itself.

But he expected it to be a one-off, a funny story he can tell himself, about the time he “slept with a lawyer.” More like slept on a lawyer’s files, but yeah, it’s supposed to be a funny story. He knows he’s not ready for, for whatever might follow that encounter. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Stumbling face first in front of Vlad days later was unplanned as well. Seeing him again, his features seemingly carved by sunlight this time, Karl had to smile. His eyes were hidden by sunglasses, but the surprised expression was unmistakable. He could feel a kind of current running through Vlad that day, like he was waiting for something to happen. It was the complete opposite of what Karl saw the night he first met Vlad. That night, he looked tired of everything. And just tired.

It was actually when one of the puppies whined and nudged his feet with its snout when he got the idea to ask Vlad to tag along. He didn’t think Vlad would agree; after all, maybe the guy was thinking one weird encounter is enough. But Vlad said yes. Karl regretted asking in the first place. Maybe Vlad was looking forward to doing something eventful, and Karl was on his regular Saturday. For some reason, Karl felt that Vlad didn’t deserve “regular,” that maybe Vlad’s had enough of it.

Karl decided that maybe this day won’t be Vlad’s regular day. Maybe he can be a random but colorful pit stop in Vlad’s life. And then they could leave it at that. _He_ could leave it at that. He’s got to.

As he makes the final sutures to JC’s hands, Karl thinks of the way that Saturday ended, the eager smile on Vlad as he gave him that burger, as if to say, _I am starting to know you. Let me know you._

_I wish I could, Vlad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like you, I am also wondering where the "kiligness" of this story is. I apologize if none can be found up to this point, or until the end.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Karl. Why do you keep doing this?”

### IV. Wild Goose Chase

If forced to compute, Vlad would probably tell you that it took around two weeks to accept that maybe it was just a fleeting moment. Maybe, like some ancient traveler finding his way out of a desert, he found an oasis. But oases are not the final stop. You’re meant to get out of the desert.

“ _Pañero_ , everything okay? The judge adjourned us.” Vlad cringed inwardly at the moniker. He’s most likely one of the few who dislike being called that. But the opposing counsel, a large man in his late 60’s, is a friend to him. They met on this case, and while they’ve so far pummeled each other during trial, they remained civil, cordial even. “You look miles away from us.”

He was. He thanked the man, and left the court room. It was his first in-person hearing in months, the judge requiring all lawyers to appear due to the nature of the case: a criminal case with Vlad as counsel for the defense. He’d been prepping for this hearing in particular, because today they presented his client on the stand. He’d like to think he did well; the other lawyer didn’t damage his client’s testimony too much. He’s happy about it, but a good lawyer is always prepared for the worst. In preparation for the worst, Vlad chose to be anxious.

After rubbing his hands vigorously with hand sanitizer from the huge bottle in his car, Vlad started the engine, removed his mask, and closed his eyes. _What a desert this is._

_Everything okay?_

\-----

It’s not for lack of effort, though. Vlad stayed in *that* coffee shop each night for the past weeks. It was easy to tell himself that he did it because he really did have a mountain of deadlines to meet, and the coffee shop did provide a quiet sanctuary, but lying to one’s self is one of the most pointless things you could do, Vlad thought. He was there in the off-chance that Karl was there, too, and maybe he was sleepy again. 

He also reclaimed his weekends, and Vlad tried to recreate _that_ weekend in particular. He left no part out, as though the whole thing was an experiment and leaving out a step meant not achieving the desired result. 

At the animal shelter, Nina finally made him an official volunteer. She was thankful for the extra help since _no one_ was actually available that Saturday and a lot needed to be done. Even Kallie seemed to perk up when she saw Vlad, lumbering over to him for a cuddle. _Where is he?_ Vlad asked her. The cow could only blink at him. 

This weekend, though, Vlad decided to stop with the Karl-hunt. Maybe for good. His parents have been hinting that as quarantine restrictions have loosened, maybe their _bunso*_ would find it in his heart to pay them a visit. Always one to fall for his folks’ attempts at guilt-tripping, Vlad promised to drive to them.

At home, Vlad was greeted with Ariana’s tail, then tongue, in rapid succession, the big dog whirling around him with excitement. His parents prepared dishes made of vegetables from their “quarantine garden” (their term). “Eat, eat,” his mom sang out to him and his dad. “Your dad cooked the _pinakbet_ and I made the _gising-gising***_. Extra spicy for you, _anak_.”

“You guys have become the ultimate _plantito_ and _plantita_. I nearly tripped over the pots out front!”

“ _Hay naku_ , it was all your dad. He ran out of things to fix in this house. So, plants.”

The conversation between them flowed easily, as it always has. Vlad felt a little sorry for himself, thinking of all the lunches he’s had to order because he simply didn’t have the time to cook. Everything on the table was delicious, and his parents laughed at how enthusiastically Vlad shouted, “Me!” when his mom asked who wants dessert. He was going to milk being _bunso_ for all it’s worth.

After lunch, his dad led him to their garden, presumably to talk about their new plant-babies. But Vlad knows him; it will segue to one of those “how are you—really” talks. His dad likes to preface his talks with some other activity: tinkering with cars, tennis, reading the paper. Apparently, now it’s gardening.

“How goes the legal world?” Vlad shrugged. He gave him the usual run-down: deadlines, cases, leaving out confidential stuff. His dad once chuckled at Vlad’s devotion to attorney-client privilege; how, no matter how controversial the case, Vlad would only give the generalities, never details, nothing juicy.

His dad hummed, thoughtfully, touching the leaves of a small bell-pepper. “That takes care of _here,_ ” he said, pointing at Vlad’s temple. “How about,” his dad’s index finger pointed at his chest, “ _here_?” Damn it.

“Dad…” Vlad pleaded.

“What? You’re not getting off that easy,” his dad chuckled. “I can read you like a book.” He can. Vlad’s not sure if it’s because of his years as a trial court judge, or just his intuition, but he seemed to always initiate these talks when Vlad is weighing something in his mind.

“And don’t tell me it’s about some case because there’s FaceTime for that. Remember when you nearly got your case dismissed because you paid the wrong filing fee? The look on your face…”

“DAAAAAD!” Vlad remembered. His dad to the rescue, as always. “It’s just…it’s nothing. I don’t even know why I’m bothered about it.”

“Bothered. Huh. So, there is something. Someone?”

“There’s the…possibility of a someone. I think. I don’t even know.” Vlad was sure of one thing though: Karl *is* someone. It’s who he is that’s Vlad’s not sure of.

“ _’Nak,_ of our three amazing kiddos, I know you’re most like me. I’ve seen it since you were little. You… _ruminate_. And when you do, you shut out the world. And God help us when we ruminate about matters of… _here_ ,” he sighed, pointing to his own chest. “I don’t know yet what this is about, and you’ll probably tell me once you’ve gotten out of your own head. But let me tell you this. No one can stop you from loving hard. Us Austrias? We love intensely. Too intensely at times.” His dad smiled ruefully.

“When it gets too much, remember you have someone who understands. We’re in your corner.” To keep from tearing up, Vlad hugged his dad, tight. “When the possibility becomes an actuality, bring him here. We’d love to meet him.”

\-----

The next week came like an avalanche. On top of his own deadlines, he was assigned the workload of one of their senior lawyers from the Corporate Law Department, who was about to take a maternity leave. Sue’s actually one of the senior lawyers who helped him with an antitrust case a few months back, so Vlad’s only too happy to take on her work. He’s grateful for the distraction, too, if he’s being honest.

She asked to meet him at the hospital where she’s admitted, due to give birth in a week or so. One of their corporate clients is about to take their stock public, and she needs to orient Vlad on what needs to happen, and when.

“Listen, Vlad, if I could tell this baby to hold it for another month or so, I would, but babies _pala_ have this weird way of staying inside for only nine months. Who knew?” Vlad laughed. “It’s okay, Sue. I’m glad to be of help.”

“I also know you’re neck deep in the Villanueva case. Gosh, you’re on your what, fifth witness now? I can’t imagine. But I would not want to hand off most of my clients to anyone else. It’s your fault. Why are you so hard-working?” She panted, looking through her large briefcase. “You know what? Just take the whole thing. The SEC filings are there. I put tabs on all of them. If anything goes wrong, even if I’m in the middle of labor, you go straight here and tell me. Even if you have to punch my wife.”

Vlad looked warily at Sue’s wife, Joan, who at 5’2” came to about Vlad’s shoulders, but whose stare could probably cow anyone to submission. “She looks mean as a doorman on a Friday night, but she’s a sweetheart.” Joan beamed. “Vlad, can you tell my wife to stop working so hard? Heck, I’m a neurosurgeon yet she works harder than me! Maybe you can talk some sense into her?”

“Shush. Your job is to love me, your hardworking wife. I saw some delicious cookies down in the hospital lobby. Can you buy me some please?”

She watched Joan leave and smiled at Vlad. “I don’t work hard, I work smart, you know that. Public stock offerings may be hard but thankfully, the whole process is temporary. Got any questions?”

Vlad shook his head. He had the basics down pat. “I think I got it. Besides, I promise to bother you only in the direst of circumstances. I can always ask the others from corp.”

“You can, but they won’t be as brilliant as I am. Hah! Now, visiting hours are nearly over and I have taken too much of your time. Get out and enjoy the rest of the night, shooo!” Vlad exited the room, still laughing.

As he approached the elevators, he could see a gaggle of white-coated doctors all wearing masks. He thought briefly of what it would be like to work in this profession at this time. The doctors were all quiet; apparently, this hospital is peppered with stickers reminding everyone to speak in low voices. Everyone was either in hushed conversation or looking at their phones.

When the elevator dinged open, Vlad got out, then stopped for a bit to set the briefcase down and adjust his tie, which had gone crooked from the day’s exertions. The hospital PA system came on, startling him with probably the most startling sentence he’s heard in a while.

“DOCTOR ALMASEN TO RADIOLOGY. DOCTOR ALMASEN TO RADIOLOGY.”

Vlad couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw another head perk up at the announcement, a few meters from his right. As he turned fully to his right though, the figure was gone. He took a couple of steps in the same direction, maybe that’s where Radiology is. _If loving intensely means going to Radiology to follow some person you may or may not have seen, okay._

 _Wait. Love?_ Vlad stopped. Nah, it couldn’t be. Right? This is just a case of being single for a really long time and when the possibility of **not** being single is dangled ever so tantalizingly, one becomes…well, tantalized. Like seeing a spot of water up ahead after weeks in the desert. Right?

His phone buzzed. His boss. “JVA, meet tomorrow 9. SC decision mailed this evening. Staff scanning right now to email to you.” Turning on his heel, Vlad walked out of the hospital.

\-----

 _Shit. He saw me, didn’t he?_ Karl’s always been a fast walker but the way he power-walked to Radiology, you’d think he’s trying for an Olympic medal. There’s no rush, not really. He just wanted to be the first to see scans of JC’s hand. But _he_ was here, in the hospital? Why? Was Vlad following him?

Nah. _Karl, now’s not the time to assume._ He was probably just visiting someone. But did he see him? As he rounded the corner to Radiology, he was greeted by the technician on duty. “You said to page as soon we got the scans and here you go, doc,” he quipped. 

“You are a godsend, Dale. You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Less loving, more vegan donuts. You promised five scans ago! How else are you going to convince me to your side?” The tech eyed Karl.

“I know! Tell you what, I’ll throw in some cookies, too, just ‘cause you’re amazing, showstopping—”

“Promises, promises.”

Karl got himself a cup of coffee from the cafeteria and settled on one of the tables. The scans looked good. Better than he anticipated. JC’s already so taken with his bandage and can’t wait to show it to his classmates on Zoom. Karl thinks he’ll heal even better.

A shadow fell over the table. “So…I saw someone walking out of the hospital looking ever so perturbed,” the shadow said in a sing-song voice.

Shit. Anna. “And he looked soooo familiar, Karl. Like someone you know. In fact, I think you *do* know him. What was his name? Let’s see…, um…Vic? V—”

Karl looked up, one eyebrow raised. “What do you want, Dr. de la Paz?”

Anna sat down. “‘Scuse you. Dr. de la Paz is my mom. What did you do this time?” 

“Nothing!” Karl’s reply came quick and cutting. “What makes you think I did anything?” After a brief pause, he asked again, looking nervous. “It was him, right?” 

“Karl. Why do you keep doing this?” 

“Doing what?” 

“This. You know what _this_ is. It’s like you’re actively avoiding anything that will remotely put a smile on your face.” Karl scoffed. And rolled his eyes, for good measure. “I smile.” 

“You do. But on your own terms. You don’t think I notice. But you only smile when you’ve decided to, not when someone’s making you.” Karl fell silent. 

“You can be happy, you know. You’re allowed. Is that what you’re waiting for? Permission? A confirmation?” Anna’s voice softened. “It’s been four years—” Karl’s eyes were like daggers. 

“I’m sorry.” Anna grabbed one of Karl’s hands, a small gesture of contrition. “You…go in here, you step inside this hospital and stay here for days even. Don’t even try to lie. How many surgeries have you scrubbed in on just this month? This can’t be healthy.” 

“I…I know you worry,” Karl muttered, resignedly. He tried to say something else, something that would ease that look on Anna's face, that says _I got this under control, I’m good, don’t worry_. But the words in his head felt too crowded that none except what he just said could escape. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *bunso- generic name for the youngest child of the family  
> *pinakbet and gising-gising- vegetable-based dishes
> 
> I tried to get these characters in kilig-worthy situations but they just wouldn't budge. At this point, I’m writing them where they want to go. Maybe one or two chapters left. Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"What did you think, that joy/ was some slight thing?"_
> 
> \- Mark Doty, [A Visitation](http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/mark_doty/poems/14807)
> 
>   
> _And when I touch you/in each of the places we meet//in all of the lives we are, it's with hands that are dying/and resurrected./ When I don't touch you it's a mistake in any life,/in each place and forever._
> 
> -Bob Hicok, [Other Lives and Dimensions and Finally a Love Poem](http://pa56.org/ross/hicok.htm)

### V. Two Turtledoves

To Vlad’s mind, there’s only a small window of time within which you can follow up on someone you met, and ask for a date. Let too much of it pass and you’d look like some creep. But then, there it was, laid out in rushed penmanship: Karl’s number, beside his name, in the visitor logbook of the animal shelter. _Of course_. Why Vlad never thought to look there is beyond him. Karl logged in two days ago. A full two months since they met at the coffee shop.

He thought of texting him, but what would he say? _I pilfered your number from Rescue Animals, Inc. Wanna go on a real, honest-to-goodness, planned date_? Still, years of law school and litigation trained him and within seconds, the number is printed on his brain. _Just in case_. 

“Thanks for being here, Vlad. We need a hand with bottle-feeding the calves and the doc will administer the shots later.” 

“Is Karl—”

“Doc James is here this week.” Ah, the part-time vet. Vlad wondered briefly how many times Karl signed that logbook and saw Vlad’s name. His number was there, too. For a split second, he felt a tiny stab at the thought that Karl did see the number and just didn’t text. A tiny one.

At the time, it felt like a huge risk, writing his number there. _You get one stupid death threat from a criminal case you were handling as a baby lawyer and suddenly you think you’re in an episode of Homeland_. Vlad chuckled at the thought of him showing that message to his dad, face white as a sheet, and the latter laughing in that way only fathers could and taking him to the telco to change his number. 

After changing into scrubs, Vlad went to the small clinic where Doc James was busy getting the supplies for the shots. “Hey Vlad! Thanks for coming in. I was worried it was just going to be me today. Listen, can you get one of the cats? I’d like to start with them today.” Typical Doc James. Well, as far as Vlad knows him. The young vet appeared to be a no-nonsense, introverted fellow. All business. Tall, lithe, and seemingly always impeccably dressed, he and Vlad worked together on several shifts, barely saying a word to each other. Easy, companionable silence, Vlad thought. 

The pair made quick work of the day’s tasks, and around lunch time, Vlad ducked out to tend to some of his deadlines. Somehow, though it doesn’t look like he’ll encounter Karl again, the latter inadvertently introduced several changes to Vlad’s life.

Now, his Saturdays have taken on a different schedule, a near-carbon copy of that first weekend with Karl. An earnest yoga class in the morning, coffee and breakfast at the weekend market, then the shelter. Then work if he feels like it, and only if he feels like it. He’d probably laugh in your face if you told him months ago that he would have weekends to himself in the near future.

If Karl’s absence in all of this was too palpable, Vlad tried not to notice. If you asked him about the extra vegan donuts he’d always buy but never eat from the weekend market, he’d tell you it was for his secretary, as a start of the week pick-me-up. About the YouTube tutorials he’d watch about how to make oat milk, he’d say it was for his parents. About his random visits to Sue’s hospital, long after Sue and Joan had checked out with a chubby-cheeked cherub, Vlad had no answer though. Fortunately for him, no one has asked, yet. In his mind, the answer always is _just in case_. 

This Saturday, though. Vlad decided to do his work at the National Library, which only recently reopened its reader services after the metro-wide lockdown. He didn’t have any book in particular to check out, but thought it criminal that he hasn’t even seen his country’s main library. He decided to remedy that and immediately reserved a date for it. 

Upon entering the library, Vlad chided himself for expecting anything _grand_. It looked, for all intents and purposes, plain but serviceable. He approached the reception area, showed his reservation and filled out the health form. It didn’t look like the sort of storied place that would house the original Philippine Declaration of Independence, or the first edition texts of Jose Rizal, but knowing they were there, probably hidden in triple-locked vaults, filled Vlad with wonder. 

He settled on one of the tables and started working. The Supreme Court decision his office got was decided in their favor, but their opponent apparently wants the court to reconsider, so Vlad is writing the many reasons why the court should **not**. He’s just thankful that all their arguments and permutations of arguments are already lodged in their earlier pleadings, so it’s all a matter of rearranging their previously argued points.

He was about take out his earphones and listen to music, but the silence in the library was, for lack of a better word, _delicious_. Insistent without being deafening, it reigned over the readers’ room with so gentle a hand that Vlad decided to forgo music. 

Technically, what he was supposed to be writing is called an Opposition, as in we’re-opposing-what-the-other-party-wants-to-do. But there was nothing combative in the way the words flowed from his brain to his fingers, then to his laptop. The words themselves may be strident, aimed at dismantling the arguments of his opponent, but the way Vlad was typing, one would think he was composing music of the most mellifluous kind. After eroding the other party’s seventh argument, he closed his eyes for a moment and rested his hands on his laptop. 

“Finally, he takes a break,” a muffled, quiet voice broke him out of his reverie. 

Keeping his eyes closed, Vlad quipped, a small smile on his face. “We have to stop meeting like this. What will people say?” He got a chuckle in return. 

Vlad kept his eyes closed, not entirely sure if his mind very recently acquired the power to manifest people out of thin air. Maybe he’s gone insane, because there is no way Karl was there. But the slight sound of a chair beside him being dragged finally forced him to confirm if he had gone completely nuts. 

He hadn’t. Karl really was there, sitting down beside him. Sure, this Karl had a mask on, but Vlad would recognize those eyelashes from a mile away. And those eyes, which, even unaided by lips, managed to smile at him. 

As if to answer the question foremost on Vlad’s mind, he spoke. “Nina told me you’d be here. Well, not _here_ here. She said something about you going to the library, so I went to ones I could think of. This is the third one.” Karl laughed softly. “You’re so tough to find. You’re like Waldo or something.” 

“Look who’s talking,” Vlad muttered. 

“You said something?” 

“Nothing.” 

\-----

“I’m sure I seemed like a crazy person to you,” Karl said as they stood in front of a large replica crocodile. He suggested they take a walk to the nearby Museum of Natural History. Surprised at the suggestion, Vlad relented since he’s been meaning to go as well. “I mean, asking to sleep on your table, dragging you to farm animals in need of help, disappearing on you…” he said the last part so softly, like he didn’t want Vlad to hear. 

“You seemed like a man with a lot on your plate.” 

“I did seem that way, didn’t I?” Karl said, sounding surprised at Vlad’s turn of phrase. “I don’t know if you want to hear it, but I want to explain myself a bit.” 

“You don’t have to, Karl,” Vlad said, quickly. “I mean, you don’t owe me anything.”

“No, I know that, but I want to.” 

\-----

“I think I didn’t want my plate to be empty. The higher the pile is, the farther away I am from my own thoughts. The more things I have to do, the less time I have to sit with my mind. Y’know what I mean?”

“I think so,” Vlad replied, a bit unsure. They started ambling about in the wide space of the museum’s ground floor, once in a while taking in the surroundings. Karl had said he wanted to explain himself; but Vlad noticed that Karl’s given to long, seemingly meaningful pauses in his speech. He also seemed to speak metaphorically: he would paint a vivid picture with his words and then let them hang in the air. Vlad’s lawyerly instincts wanted to kick in. He wanted clarity. He wanted literal speech with no equivocation, no ambiguity.

But looking at the surgeon beside him, Vlad could see how it important it was for Karl to say what it was he was planning to say. He could feel how badly Karl wanted his words to come out: untrammeled, verbatim, vulnerable. A desire to protect him shot up like a frisson inside Vlad. 

“Lately, I realized I was going about life the wrong way. I realized I had to _think about what I was thinking_. You made me realize that.” 

“Me?”

“Yeah. That night, at the coffee shop. I was there a half-hour before I managed to talk to you,” Karl admitted, looking at Vlad sheepishly. “Your focus was immense. You looked almost angry. I wondered what kind of thoughts would make this person so submerged in his own mind.” 

“Uh, it was nothing. It was just something I needed to finish, remember?” If there’s a pill to keep someone from blushing, Vlad needed one. Stat. 

“I know. I was so proud of you, though I asked myself why. I hardly knew you. But I was.” They stopped before a large-scale art depiction of a Philippine eagle. “Ever since we met, I’ve been trying to do the same thing, you see. Trying to think, really think. Turns out, I don’t like my thoughts that much. Maybe that’s why I’ve always avoided them.”

“Maybe you could tell me about some of them? I’m not a good thought auditor, but maybe they’re not so bad if you share them,” Vlad offered. He was reminded of what his dad said when he was young: a problem shared is a problem halved. If Karl had a problem, Vlad didn’t mind taking half of it. 

“For a really long time, I didn’t think I deserved happiness.” Karl stated plainly, looking at Vlad directly in the eye. “I mean, I can be happy, I know that. If I will myself enough, I can. I can be happy in the _I_ department, but not in the _We_ department,” he continued, gesturing between him and Vlad with his hand. “Not in that way. I didn’t think the world would allow me happiness in that regard.”

“How come?” 

“Because I can’t be trusted with it. At least, I think I can’t.” A deep breath. “On my first year of residency, a five-year-old girl came in with appendicitis. Acute, abdominal pain, the standard symptoms. It was 3 in the morning; I was on duty. Standard symptoms, standard treatment. I scheduled her for an appendectomy asap. It was a normal case, things like that can happen to kids, too. 

“The guy who carried her into the ER, though. I hadn’t taken a good look at him when they came in but when I approached him and the woman to explain the course of treatment, I realized it was Russell, my boyfriend. And his sister. The girl’s his niece, Stef.” Karl took a pause by the ramp going up to the upper floor. 

“Russell and I had been dating since med school. He’s a lawyer, too, and had just passed the bar exams earlier that year. No one knew from his end. About us or even about _him_. Still. I thought we were perfect for each other. He knew the hours I keep, how demanding everything in my life was, and he understood. He kept the same schedule after all.” Karl started for the ramp, Vlad holding him by the narrow strip of skin above his elbow, as though the boy needed all the help he could get going up.

“I knew I should have paged someone else for the surgery. First rule of med school is to maintain objectivity. Don’t treat anyone you know intimately, refer family to other doctors. But technically, I didn’t know her, right? Besides, if and when Russell decides to tell them about me, that could be a nice anecdote, right? _Hey, Ate, it was me who treated Stef_. Don’t laugh; it sounded cool in my head,” Karl faux-scolded. 

“It was a simple procedure. But that’s maybe why I failed the way I did. That and I was proud. I thought that I could do it. It was simple, my attending surgeon was on standby, I had it in the bag. In the end, the bleed came too fast, faster than my hands could handle. Maybe in another surgeon’s hands, the result would have been different. But, well, it was only me there.”

They came upon a display of prehistoric sea creatures. The shells were enmeshed so wholly onto ancient rocks that it was hard to tell where the living things began and the dead things ended. Instead, they looked like hybrid sci-fi creatures from the very distant past, something too unusual to survive. 

“I can’t blame Russell though. I couldn’t even look at myself after the surgery. I also didn’t see how _we_ could survive it, the death of his relative…in my hands. We tried to. But it was too big. Too unforgivable. I think it was an act of mercy on his part, when he left. I wasn’t salvageable; he needed to start with someone else. I understood that.”

The pair stopped at the entrance of one room on the second floor; it was an interactive display that lets viewers experience what it’s like to be an archaeologist. “I don’t know about you, Vlad, but I think I’ll pass on this one, seeing as how I’ve been doing some digging here.”

Vlad laughed, softly. “Let’s keep walking then.”

As they walked, Vlad took Karl’s hand, a tentative gesture meant to soothe. Karl gripped it and kept walking. 

“After that, I found that the only way to silence my thoughts was to keep moving, keep being busy. I tried other things, too, you see. I did yoga. I did Vipassana meditation. They told me to treat my thoughts like passing clouds, or the background scenery while on a train. But I can’t make clouds out of my thoughts. My clouds are not innocent. My clouds are unforgiveable. So, I decided to pay them as little attention as possible.” 

Vlad was on the verge of objecting at this point. Growing up the way he did, he didn’t think anything is resolved until it’s thought and thought and discussed. But before he could say anything, Karl continued. 

“I was doing a good job of it, too, Vlad. You should have seen me. I progressed so quickly in the residency program that I could maybe finish it at the top. I’ve been assigned more solo surgeries than any other resident. I was like a shooting star.” Karl laughed. 

“Shooting stars crumble, too, Karl.” Vlad didn’t mean to say that out loud, but he couldn’t help it, too. Imagining Karl living the way he did, it was like watching a candle strike a match to melt itself away. He didn’t want to start tearing up in the museum so he didn’t say anything else. 

“I know. I saw you in the hospital, you know.” Vlad stopped walking and looked at Karl, shock evident in his eyes. 

“Twice.” 

“I knew you were there! I heard your name over the PA system. I wasn’t sure if you’re the one they were calling, but yeah, um…” Vlad trailed off. 

“That was me. Anna saw you, too. The first night, I thought, maybe he was visiting someone. The next one, a few days later, I wasn’t so sure. You were there, with that pout you do when you’re so engrossed with whatever you’re doing. And I wondered why I wasn’t beside you, why I wasn’t there with you, getting to know you.” Karl took a deep breath. 

“I needed to know why I am depriving myself of you.” 

Vlad truly didn’t know what to say. His training taught him to formulate at least 15 different arguments as to why Karl absolutely shouldn’t deprive himself of Vlad, reasons why they could be _so good_ , and _how_ good they would be. Instead, he kept quiet, and slowly tightened his grip on Karl’s hand. 

“I decided to hide from you. I know you’ve been to the shelter; Nina told me you signed up to be a full-time volunteer, too. You don’t know how happy I was to hear that, Vlad,” Karl’s tears were on the verge of falling and Vlad was tempted to stop him from speaking and just hold him. 

“I don’t deserve you, Vlad. My mind’s been telling me that. I ruin things. But I couldn’t stay away either.” Karl stopped and took both of Vlad’s hands. 

“But I _want_ to deserve you. I’m going to mess up this explanation, but I know I’m stronger than my mind, or whoever’s been telling me I don’t deserve forgiveness or happiness, which is…well, me. But what this long-winded explanation leads to is, I’d at least like a proper opportunity. For a shot. With you. Vlad. If you’ll have me.”

“This is so damned hard to say with face shields and masks on,” Vlad finally said after a long pause, earning a not-so-quiet laugh from Karl.

As they recovered from their giggles, Vlad looked at Karl’s eyes, and thought of everything they’ve lived through thus far, their histories, and history _in general_. How immense everything is, how all around them there’s evidence of billions and billions of years and how, compared to all this, the intersection of their two lives is nearly invisible, the meeting point barely there. How there is so much room. For forgiveness. For happiness. 

Vlad spoke again. 

“Karl. I’d love that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A somewhat wordy ending. Sorry, my inner editor has given up. I wanted this to be fluffier and lighter, but oh well. There will be an epilogue (if only to justify one of the songs in that playlist hehe). Thank you very much for reading. It really means a lot.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Way down in _Kokomo_

### VI. Fish Walking Out Of Water (or, an attempt at an epilogue)

The longest surgery on record took 103 hours and a team of 20 surgeons working in shifts. It involved conjoined twins whose brains were so enmeshed and braided around each other that each blood vessel had to be carefully separated. 

For the past two weeks, Vlad has been Karl’s sounding board about his upcoming solo surgery. From putting on scrubs to the final stitch, Vlad has heard it recited so many times that he even committed it to memory. Of course, he understood exactly zero percent of what Karl was talking about, but he liked to think that being there for Karl’s verbal rehearsal helped. And as complicated as the surgery supposedly is, he doesn’t think it would last as long as the world’s longest surgery. No, of course not. Karl assured him that it would probably take 6 hours at most. It would start at 3 in the afternoon; plenty of time for Vlad finish his work, pack up their things and pick him up at the hospital. 

\-----

He got to the hospital around 8:30 in the evening. Karl said he could wait at the lounge where the family of the patient was waiting, but no one was there. He tried sneaking a peek into the OR and found the door wide open, room empty. _Looks like everyone’s finished._ He walked over to the nurses’ station to ask around. 

“Ay, si Doc Karl _po_? I think he left already¸sir. _Umalis na ‘di ba,_ ” one of the nurses turned to the others. They turned to Vlad and he could swear one of them immediately giggled at the sight of Vlad, and whispered to the other nurse. _Okayyyy…_

“Do you know where he could have gone?” He and Karl never really agreed on a time to meet since the surgery’s schedule was so flexible, so he could have gone anywhere at this point. Argh. 

“I know where he is.” 

Vlad turned around. “Oh, hi, Anna! I mean, Doc, Doc Anna.” 

“Hi. Vlad, right? The surgery finished at 7.” 

Vlad just stood there, unsure of what to say next. 

“After each surgery, Karl likes to go to one place and one place only.” 

\-----

Vlad didn’t really believe in ghosts, and his faith in the afterlife is sketchy at best and inexistent at worst, but this place is creepy. Especially at night. Still, Anna said Karl would be here and about a few meters from where he parked, he saw a figure sitting on the grass; so still and motionless that you could have put a border around him and called the whole thing a painting. 

Careful not to break the peace, Vlad walked over. “ _’Andito ka lang pala._ ” 

Karl turned to face him and smiled. “ _’Lika._ Sit by me, please.” He patted the tuft of soft grass beside him. Vlad did as he was told and rummaged through the paper bag he carried with him. 

“Here, for you.” Vlad took out a huge cinnamon roll and a tumbler full of iced americano. 

“Score!” Karl did a mini-clap with his hands. “How did you know?” 

“You like sweets _after_ a big surgery. And salty stuff while prepping for surgery,” Vlad said, remembering the time Karl recited the steps of the surgery while they were out grocery shopping; absentmindedly, he started tearing through a bag of salt & vinegar chips they hadn’t paid for yet. 

Vlad looked around the place, and placed an arm around Karl. The boy felt a little cold, so he rubbed his upper arm. “Surgery went okay?” 

Karl snuggled into him, burrowing his head into the crook of Vlad’s neck. “Uh-huh…I come here after every surgery,” Karl said, running his fingers through the tombstone. “I couldn’t bring myself to come to her funeral. But…when I went back to residency, I realized how unfair it was of me, to not come here.” 

“So after a few months, I started coming here. I would just tell her how my surgeries went, fill her in with the details, what I learned, what I could’ve done better. I believe she can hear me, Vlad. Is that weird?” 

“No. Not at all. I think it’s a human need, to be heard. And be heard by the right person.” A breeze blew right through them, which made Vlad curl the doctor into his body deeper. 

The pair stayed that way, the borders of their bodies right next to each other, like warring countries on the verge of peace, flush against the cold. Once in a while, dried leaves would rustle around them, animated by and surrendering to the wind. To Vlad, they sounded like a reprieve. They sounded like fragility. 

“Ready to go?” Vlad asked when it seemed like Karl was very nearly about to fall asleep. 

“Yeah…hey, how did you find me anyway?” 

“Anna. She let me in on your post-surgery ritual. I’m glad she told me. Thank you for letting me in, Karl. For letting me see this.” 

As Vlad opened the passenger side door for Karl, the latter spotted the two large weekend bags at the back. With a questioning turn of the head, he looked at Vlad. “Where we going?” 

“Welllllll, I thought maybe you deserved a break this week. With the surgery and everything else, I thought it best to get away, empty our plates for a bit. There’s a beach resort in _Zambales_ that serves really great vegan food. I thought maybe you’d like it. It’s, like, deep in there, it’s so quiet.” 

Karl’s look softened as he put on his seatbelt. “You’re the best person in the world. You realize that? I’m both happy that there’s only one of you and sad that not everyone else can experience you.” Vlad laughed out loud. 

“So should I maybe get myself cloned?” 

“Never. Don’t you dare.” 

“How about cryogenically preserve myself for future generations?” 

“Hmm…maybe. They could use you in the 31st century,” Karl deadpanned, then stuck his tongue out. 

As they drove off, the Beach Boys’ Kokomo came on the radio. The boys sang out loud. _We’ll get there fast and then we’ll take it slow, that’s where we wanna gooooo~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The _end_ end. Really. A few words: all thanks go to the team behind Gaya Sa Pelikula, for the characters of Karl and Vlad. For the story that needed to be told.
> 
> For N, my boyfriend, for telling me to write this story, for endlessly encouraging me, and who may have inspired my next GSP AU story. I love you. (Maybe I'll let you read this hehe.)
> 
> To each and every one who read this, thank you. I told myself I will write this for me and won't care if anyone else read it or liked it. But I would be lying if I said I didn't completely relish the fact that some of you read, "kudos-ed," and left messages about this story. I will be forever grateful.
> 
> Finally, I can read this from start to finish and obsess about the editing mishaps. Cheers!

**Author's Note:**

> Five chapters, ideally. This is my very first work of fan fiction. Feedback appreciated (tenses are my weakness. Help.) Hello!
> 
> I made a sort-of companion playlist for this story. Anyway, it's a distillation of classic songs that both characters would have bonded over; the kind that would make them (or you) go, "Hey I remember this song! Turn it up!" [Barely There: A Companion Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/79IIIFQBin635aFxsBCA3W?si=5ammQDeuSx2M_G5S2ia0Ug)


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